A tiny 1/4 inch hex driver handle appeared from the far reaches of a drawer, sporting a handle better suited for tweaking the 3 mm adjusting nuts on the bottom of the M2’s platform than applying actual torque to real fasteners. Rather than breaking a set of nut drivers, I made a simple brass shim to soak up the difference between the handle’s 6.5 mm ID hex and the 5.5 mm OD of the nuts:
That’s 15 mil = 0.40 mm shimstock to leave enough clearance for my crude forming technique.
Which technique consisted of making a “mandrel” by lining up a trio of Nyloc nuts on a screw, snipping off a suitable shimstock rectangle, and squashing it into shape with parallel-jaw pliers:
As you’d expect, the shimstock hex came out larger & uglier than the mandrel:
But that doesn’t matter after it’s tucked inside the driver; it works perfectly.
That’s the tank for the water-cooling option atop the housing, with the collection tray underneath. It’s screwed to a big wood plank; I’ll probably bench-mount the thing, but that’s stable enough for now.
The right-rear mounting screw hides below the dust collection vacuum port:
You must remove the metal fitting that’s screwed to the frame in the obvious manner:
The slowest speed runs a bit faster than I’d like, but I admit to being a sissy.
The 14 tpi blade cuts wood just fine:
The 24 tpi blades should chop up the smaller chunks I generally work with around here.
Bonus: the blade guide just barely clears my huge block of machinable wax.
Apparently, the saws all come from the same factory with the same bass-ackwards vise:
The V-groove should be on the fixed jaw, where it would more-or-less precisely align rods / cylinders with the blade. The moveable jaw isn’t dovetailed to the base of the vise, so it ends up wherever it stops and, somehow, they managed to machine the end of the screw shaft off-center from the shaft, so the moveable jaw moves in a small circle as you tighten it.
A small punch mark locks the jaw to the screw; you can pull the disk on the shaft past the indentation by turning the knob with sufficient enthusiasm:
The hole in the vise, just under the disk, lets somebody whack the jaw with a punch.
Some machining or an entirely new vise setup lies in the future of this thing.
I mounted it on a scrap of countertop by transfer-punching the base holes, only to discover that the punch didn’t leave a mark for one hole, even though a dent was clearly visible at the bottom of the hole with the saw on the countertop.
A bit of headscratching later:
Apparently the core for that hole in the injection mold didn’t seat quite right. The layer was thin enough to drill out easily.
Returning from Rochester & Points North, I spotted something in the rearview mirror that could have been either a Yellow Submarine or a storage tank. As whatever it was got closer, the view got weirder:
Huh. Who’d’a thunk it?
A stiff crosswind pushed them all over the lane:
I hope they arrived at their destination with the shiny side up and the rubber side down.
The mower tried to eat a protruding root, emitted a horrible crash, and ran poorly until I shut it off, after which it refused to restart. Hoping against hope that the flywheel’s aluminum key had sheared, I pulled the cover, removed the starter, and found:
Alas, the key is in fine shape. I made the two diagonal scratches to confirm it really is aluminum.
After letting the mower sit for a day, it started and ran briefly, blatted a giant backfire that probably startled the neighborhood (because I had the exhaust aimed into the garage, which served as a wonderful resonator), died a sudden death, then made clanking sounds whenever I pulled the rope. Something is definitely broken inside, but I suspect diagnosing & fixing it will require more time and money than is justified.
I no longer form deep emotional attachments to lawn mowers, so I ordered a similar one online and the local Sears had it ready for pickup in an hour.
If I had to pull the flywheel, I’d tap the two obvious holes (one behind the shaft in the picture) and gimmick up a puller with two matching screws around a central bolt that does the heavy lifting; I can’t justify the Special Service Tool I’m sure it requires.
The old mower lasted an hour at the foot of the driveway with a “FREE – Engine probably severely broken” sign affixed to its handle; both parties got a great deal on that transaction!
Long ago, Mary picked out a PTT switch with a raised, square post that provided a distinct shape and positive tactile feedback:
Time passes, she dinged her thumb in the garden, and asked for a more rounded button. I have some switches with rounded caps, but replacing the existing switch looked a lot like work, sooooo:
As with all small objects, building them four at a time gives the plastic in each one time to cool before slapping the next layer on top:
The hole in the cap is 0.2 mm oversize, which results in a snug press fit on the small ridges barely visible around the post in the first image:
Rather than compute the chord covering the surface, I just resized a sphere to twice the desired dome height (picked as 6 threads, just for convenience) and plunked it atop a cylinder. Remember to expand the sphere diameter by 1/cos(180/sides) to make it match the cylinder and force both to have the same number of sides.
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